


He Made Hell Feel Like Home | Yu-Gi-Oh! Halloween 2019

by DisposableVillain



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angel/Demon Alternate Universe, Bisexual, Bisexual Character, Demon Sex, F/M, Gay, Halloween, Halloween story, LGBT, M/M, Non-binary character, Wall Sex, bisexual Bakura, demon Ryou, domestic abuse, he just has a weird perception of gender so he doesn't really give a fuck, human Bakura, mlm, mlw - Freeform, non-binary, non-binary Ryou, or I guess gnc?, summoning demons 101, wlm, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 11:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21243338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisposableVillain/pseuds/DisposableVillain
Summary: “I’ll give you anything, just get me the fuck out of this!”Bakura Mubarak was an unfortunate man, and unfortunate men have very few places to turn for help when they exhaust all of their options. Fortunately, a particular demon delights in helping out unfortunate men. Especially when it means he gets to have some fun.[ Tendershipping ] [ Demon AU ]





	He Made Hell Feel Like Home | Yu-Gi-Oh! Halloween 2019

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, so I started this a few months ago for Ryou's birthday but now it's a Halloween story because I'm a dumbass, okay? Okay. Glad we've sorted that out. Anyway, for those of you who don't know me, I'm Elliot. This here's a tendershipping demon AU. I'm posting it today instead because I will 100% forget tomorrow. Should I be updating Raise Hell and Turn It Up instead? Yes. Why am I not? Cause I'm depressed and am binge watching The Good Place on Netflix instead.
> 
> I got the title from a quote (not sure where I found it) that said "damaged people are the most dangerous, because they know how to make hell feel like home" and that's pretty much the mood of this story. Don't worry, though, there's some humour and a fair bit of fluff. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy and have a safe Halloween.

**Content Warning: Domestic abuse, gore, nsfw, death (minor shitty character)**

* * *

Bakura Mubarak was an incredibly unfortunate man in many aspects.

His parents and little brother died when he was young. He had to age out of the foster system. He was black and Egyptian, so he never fit in in Japan. He was naturally gifted at the drums, but no one else in his music class wanted to learn it when he was young, so he was handed a guitar instead because it was easier on the teacher. He had ADHD and a genetic predisposition to mental illness and substance abuse. He was as gay as a fucking rainbow in a conservative country- well, bisexual really, but it didn’t quite have the same ring to it. He got tattoos before going to Japan, not realising the stigma around tattoos and gangs in the area. His last three relationships, including the one he was trying to get out of currently, turned out to be abusive. He was covered in scars, not just limited to the ones from his relationships.

Of course his misfortune was extended to his birthdays. Why wouldn’t it be? It rained, his favourite restaurant was closed, he had to work. There was always something.

So, realistically, there wasn’t that much else that _could_ go wrong. Or at least, that was what Bakura told himself as his girlfriend handed him a mug of tea on his twenty-ninth birthday, a few days before Halloween. It was one of the few birthdays that he wasn’t working on.

“I’ll see you later,” she promised, squeezing his arm, just below a bruise from a few days earlier. “We can go see that new film, yeah?”

An romance film. Bakura hated romance films. But he smiled. “Sure.” A pause. Her eyes seemed a touch darker. “Thanks, Hoshiko.”

Hoshiko’s smile returned and kissed his shoulder. “No problem. I just want you to have a nice birthday after last year.”

His ex had landed him in the hospital with a concussion, and Hoshiko insisted that she was far better and would never do anything like that. Maybe she was right. She hadn’t given Bakura a concussion. Yet, anyway.

“Thank you.” Bakura smiled again and took a sip of the tea. It was far too sweet and burned the tip of his tongue. “What time are you home?”

Hoshiko hummed as she tied her hair up in a ponytail. “I should be back around six, so we can go to the seven thirty showing and then get dinner. Sound good?”

“Yeah. Sounds great.”

Hoshiko flashed him a smile. “What would you like to do for dinner?”

Bakura shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“It’s your birthday - you can pick.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“Bakura.”

“I’m good with anywhere.”

“_Bakura_.” Her eyes were dark again. “I’m being nice to you here. Just pick a damn restaurant.”

Bakura hesitated, throat tight. Calm down. She liked that sushi place a few blocks away, but it was cold out, so she wouldn’t want to walk and it was too near to get a taxi. She wanted to try the salad bar near the cinema but she mightn’t like it and it could go badly. Maybe the seafood restaurant? No, Bakura hated seafood and she’d know something was up.

“What about that small ramen joint up the road from the cinema?” He suggested. “Nanase? Their soba is really good.”

She liked that place enough to keep her happy, and it was still one of Bakura’s favourite restaurants.

“Perfect.” Her beautiful plastic smile was back, fitting in perfectly with her neat ponytail and pinstripe skirt-suit. The perfect girlfriend. She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, babe.”

“Yeah.” Bakura nodded. “Have a good day at work.”

“I will.” She winked and then she was gone.

Bakura watched her from the window of his apartment. Their apartment. Her apartment, really, even though Bakura was the only one paying rent. She walked down the stairs and out to the bus stop just within sight of the window, across the road. The bus came three minutes later and she waved out the window to him as it drove by.

Bakura raised his hand in a feeble wave, but once the bus was gone, it dropped to his side. His shoulders slumped and he poured his mug of tea down the drain. He hated tea.

He turned the kettle on and made himself a fresh cup of black coffee before retreating to his bedroom. The bed was unmade and the dresser was a mess with Hoshiko’s make-up, but it was fine.

He made his way into the bathroom and climbed up onto the toilet. Hoshiko was taller than him and would have an easy time reaching his hiding place, but she had never thought to look above the loose tiles in their bathroom ceiling to his knowledge.

He stood on his toes and pushed one of the ceiling tiles up. The book that he pulled down from his hiding place was thick and leatherbound with more dust on the pages than ink, in an old language from Kemet that Bakura had studied at university. He’d been lucky to find it.

He blew the dust off the cover and sat on the toilet to skim through it. Most of the spells inside were fake or useless to him, but there was one in particular that had caught his eye at the second-hand shop with the rows of stacked shelves and the broken window.

There.

Bakura set the book down on the tiled floor and picked up the candles and chalk he’d bought. He couldn’t afford to mess the bedroom up - not if it didn’t work. He worked as quickly as he could.

Hoshiko had been known more than once to surprise him by coming home early from work on his days off. Those days rarely ended well.

The chalk pentagram took most of his time, with the intricate spellwork between lines and the need for precision with his writing. When he was finally done, he lit the candles and turned off the lights.

His voice was low and hoarse as he whispered the spell, his muscles thrumming and his shoulders tense. He raised his hand over the centre of the pentagram and picked up a knife.

As he said the final words, he sliced into the palm of his hand. Blood dripped into the centre.

For a moment, nothing. Bakura sagged.

Then he was thrown back against the wall. Smoke fogged his vision, choked him, and he coughed. Gasped for air.

It was just like back then.

Tears burned his eyes and he covered his mouth with his sleeve. Fuck.

A low chuckle filled the air. **You should not have summoned me, Human.** The words weren’t spoken. It was more like they were pushed into Bakura’s head. Not by a voice either. It was… it was like whoever was saying them was actually writing them, and from the sounds of various letters being written on his brain, Bakura knew exactly what they were saying.

“Help,” Bakura spat out. “I need your help. I need protection.”

**And what will you give me in return?**

“Anything.” The word dripped like poison from his mouth. “I’ll give you anything, just get me the fuck out of this!”

His head was aching, throbbing, and his body shook. Instead of poison, it was blood spilling from his mouth.

**Anything_?_**

“Anything!”

His vision was dark, but the smoke was lessening. He could just see the outline of a slim figure through it, but it didn’t seem quite human. The torso too small, the legs and arms too long, and claws protruding from fingers. Something was coming out of its head too - sharp, pointed, broken. Deep ebony wings that were dark enough to make even the darkest night look sunny sprouted from its shoulders.

Bakura could almost feel the smirk weighing down on him in the air. It was too heavy. His arms gave out and his chin hit the floor.

**I accept.**

* * *

When Bakura woke, the sky was still bright but his mouth was dry and his head ached. He was only wearing boxers and a clean t-shirt, and his hand was bandaged. He couldn’t have changed after the summoning. He’d past out. Footsteps neared his door, and he jolted up. He was fucked-

But it wasn’t Hoshiko that pushed open the door. Something else walked through holding a small tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of water. It was a slim thing that wasn’t quite human anymore, or maybe never was. Its hair was pure white and its eyes black as the deepest night, with long claws and a tail to match its dark, leathery wings.

Perched in his hair was an almost-halo. It looked… it looked like the kind of halo that children in a play would wear, the cut out of paper and taped to their heads. Only this wasn’t taped down, and it wasn’t painted gold. It certainly wasn’t paper either. It was ivory, and the middle was shattered, splitting it into two broken-looking horns. It looked sharp enough to cut.

The creature smiled, pointed teeth poking out from beneath thin white lips. “Ah, you’re awake. Good.” It was… speaking this time. Properly.

Bakura shifted so he was sitting up properly in the bed. “You’re…” He scanned the creature again. “You’re the demon I summoned, right?” And- fuck, it wasn’t wearing any clothes bar a thin black loincloth. Bakura looked away.

The creature’s tail flicked from right to left. It didn’t seem bothered “You didn’t _summon_ me. You invited me. And by the way, you’re a terrible negotiator. Don’t give a demon exactly what they want right off the bat. We’re selfish. If you offer us anything and we’ll take it all.”

“Okay.” It wasn’t like there was that much of a fucking difference once Bakura got away, but whatever. “You’re the demon?”

A small nod.

“You can give me protection?”

“For a price.” The demon set the tray down on Bakura’s bedside table. “Eat.”

“Why?”

“You got a mild concussion when you fainted earlier. I’ve healed you to the best of my ability, but it will take time as well. The soup should help a bit.” A smirk. “I can’t take what’s owed if you’re too weak to give it to me, can I?”

Bakura scowled but lifted the tray onto his lap and took a sip of the soup. Cream of chicken. “Can you at least put some clothes on?” He had read far too much Drarry and various BL manga in his teens for his mind not to conjure up a particularly sweet idea of the demon above him, pinning Bakura’s arms down, slowly easing into him-

“If it bothers you.” The demon nodded. “Of course.” It snapped its fingers twice and a pair of tight black jeans covered its legs, and a blue-and-white striped t-shirt its torso. “Is this alright? Or would you prefer something else? I never know with you humans.”

“That’s fine.” Bakura shook his head and took a few more spoonfuls of soup. Silence sat heavy between them as he ate, the demon clearly not bothered to strike up a conversation. When the bowl was half empty, Bakura cleared his throat. “Who are you?”

The demon hummed and waved a hand at the bed. “May I?” When Bakura nodded, it sat on the corner of the mattress. “I used to be what you humans would call the Arch-angel Raphael. Or- are you Christian?”

Bakura shook his head. “Atheist. But I know of you.”

Another smirk. “Ironic.” It leaned back on its hands. “Then you know how powerful I am… but I doubt the humans speak much of my Fall. Or… I suppose I didn’t exactly _fall_ so much as swan dive.”

Bakura choked on his food. “So you chose to go to hell?”

The demon wrinkled its nose. “It was never really a choice, I suppose. Kek- or, Lucifer, I suppose you’d know him as, but his name is Kek now. He was just… always so helplessly curious. I couldn’t watch such a good soul turn black without trying to stop it.” A pause. The demon almost looked sad. Then it looked back at Bakura with a smirk. “Irony again, I suppose.” Its wings fluttered a touch. “His soul wasn’t the only thing to turn black.”

Bakura’s eyes flickered to the demon’s wings. “Do all demons still have their wings?”

“Few,” it admitted. “Kek’s were stolen by Gabriel - is that the right name?” When Bakura nodded, the demon mimicked his actions. “Humans have such odd names for us... The angel’s true name was Inana. Kek merely has imprints, or scars of what they used to be across his back. Most don’t even have that. I kept mine because I Dove whereas they Fell, but the feathers were burned away when I Dove.” He reached up to touch his horns. “We all have these though. They used to be halos.”

“Really?”

The demon nodded. “They were joined in the middle and a brilliant light shone from them. It blinded us. Kek was the first to ask why we had to be blinded and he wasn’t satisfied with the answer They gave him, so he pushed and pushed and it led to war.” It shrugged, shoulders sagging. “I Dove shortly after Kek Fell. Our halos break on impact. It allows us to see.” It smiled a touch. “It hurts, but it’s a small price to pay.”

“I see.” Bakura didn’t see. At all. “So if no one has been getting the names right, your name isn’t Raphael?”

“It’s Ryou.”

“And… are you a- are you a guy or-?”

Ryou tilted its head. “I suppose so. The whole concept is odd, but I can be a man if it is more comfortable for you.” He smiled again. “Now finish eating and we’ll talk about what kind of protection exactly you need.”

Bakura drained the end of his soup and water in record time though it burned his throat and made his stomach feel bloated. “I need you to protect me from my girlfriend.”

Ryou’s smile wavered. “Oh? I thought human partners protected one another?” He paused and his eyes flickered down, darkened. Fixed on the bruises on Bakura’s neck, almost shaped like a hand. “Oh.”

Bakura looked away. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Ryou leaned in, over Bakura, trapping him in the bed. “Anything,” he murmured, “right?” His breath was hot on Bakura’s lips.

Bakura swallowed and nodded. “Anything.”

And just like that, Ryou jumped back and picked up the tray. “Then of course. If she tries to hurt you again, I’ll step in.”

Bakura shook his head. “No. No, I need you to protect me from her now.”

“Oh.” Ryou’s eyes seemed to shine, and for a moment, they almost looked brown instead of black. “So I get to have some fun? Humans don’t usually like when I have fun.”

“I can’t take this anymore,” Bakura snapped. His eyes burned and he looked down, gripping the sheets covering him in tight fists. His vision blurred. “I can’t take feeling this helpless. Not knowing when she’s going to be mad, not knowing what’s going to set her off, not being able to _fucking protect myself_ even though I know I fucking can. It’s happened _three fucking times_. You’d think I’d be used to it, right?” He had to squeeze his eyes shut but hot tears spilled down his cheeks regardless. “Get rid of her,” he whispered. “I’ll text her to tell her we’re over, and then you need get rid of her if she tries to come anywhere near the house, or she’ll fucking kill me.”

Another pause. A clink as the tray was set down. A creak, weight shifting on the mattress. Surprisingly warm hands cupped Bakura’s cheeks, thumbs wiping tears away. No trace of the claws.

“I’ll protect you.” A whisper, soft.

Bakura managed to look up. If he wanted to, in that moment, he could have pretended Ryou was human. He was pale, but so close that Bakura couldn’t quite see his horns or wings. Then again, humans were fucking monsters, so why would he even want to pretend such an ethereal beauty could be one of them?

He cleared his throat and looked away. “Pass me my phone.” His voice was hoarse. “I’ll text her.”

His hands shook as Ryou handed him the phone. The screen blurred. The buttons were all too small and he kept hitting the wrong ones and having to go back to correct himself. Then reword them.

Finally, he stared at the finished message.

**I can****’t take this anymore**, it read. **I****’m done with this. Don’t come near my place. I’ll have your shit sent back to your house in a day or two. We’re through.**

Send. He dropped his phone onto his stomach as the ‘sent’ sound went off on his phone. Fuck.

“It’s okay.” Ryou took his hand, and Bakura looked down. His claws had retracted to the length of regular fingernails, though they were still black. “You’re safe.” He squeezed Bakura’s hand. “I’ll protect you.”

The words hung unspoken between them.

For a price.

* * *

Hoshiko rang and texted Bakura so many times that his message box was full by evening, but Ryou assured him that she wasn’t anywhere near the apartment.

“I’ve already set up wards,” he explained. “When you were asleep. Before you fainted, you said you needed protection, so I put them up to alert me if anyone had the intention of coming into this apartment.”

Over the next few days, Bakura got more used to having Ryou around. He was an avid fan of horror, which was unsurprising but a nice change from chick flicks, he loved sweets and all food in general (except anchovies - though apparently they were his own creation, and he was quite proud of them), and he eased off on the demonic references after the first day. His wings and tail even shrank to a more manageable size by day three.

On day four, Ryou walked in on Bakura in the shower. That night, the idea of what could have been in _any_ other situation plagued Bakura’s mind until he finally slipped a hand down his sweatpants.

On day five, Ryou walked in on him with his hands down his pants again. He stood there for a moment, and Bakura called his bluff by not moving. Then Ryou’s lips were on his, tongue in his mouth, hands on his chest, arms, legs, cock- until he came all over his chest and the demon cleaned it up with a smug look.

On day six, Bakura had work, and he was practically shaking as he ate.

“Don’t worry.” Ryou smiled and took Bakura’s hand. He was a lot more physical with any show of affection since day five. “I have wards around you to alert me to any of your exes coming near you and I can, quite literally, be there in a quarter of an instant if there is any trouble. You’ll be okay.”

“What if something goes wrong?” Bakura mumbled. “What if she gets past it, or- or gets someone else to do something-”

Ryou’s wings fluttered and he leaned over the counter, hovered really, and pressed his lips to Bakura’s. Bakura’s breath caught, and slowly, he relaxed, returning the kiss.

“Nothing will go wrong,” Ryou insisted, pulling back a touch. His breath was as warm and fresh as any human’s on Bakura’s mouth. “Trust me.”

Bakura snorted. “You were the one who told me never to trust a demon.”

Ryou smirked and leaned in to nip Bakura’s lip before sitting down again. “I told you not to promise us anything before we make a pact. With the pact and your protection, you can trust me.”

Bakura couldn’t help it - as double-sided as the reassurance was, it _was_ reassurance. He stood up from the table and walked over to Ryou to kiss him once more, shoulders dropping as he did so. “Thank you.”

Ryou chuckled and shook his head. “You keep thanking me as though I’m not getting something out of this arrangement too.” He looked up at Bakura, head tilted to the side, wings fluttering as he adjusted them. “Is that a human thing or a _you_ thing?”

Bakura nodded. “I guess so. It was more just-” He paused, frowned, pulled back a touch. “Nevermind.”

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He didn’t thank people unless he was scared of them or liked them as more than a fuck-buddy. With his exes, it was a mix. Ryou… He wasn’t scared of Ryou. It was sort of impossible to be scared of him after he got excited over hot chocolate with marshmallows on day one and drank so many mugs that he had to lie down for an hour.

“It was just for going out of your way. The deal was just for you to make sure she didn’t get near the apartment.”

Ryou hummed and pressed a finger to Bakura’s chest. “No. I promised to protect you.” A moment, a pause. Ryou’s lip quirked. “But I don’t mind. It’s been too long since a human thanked me for something, so I like it when you thank me without needing to. It’s nice.” Ryou leaned back and picked up his mug of hot chocolate. It had sprinkles on it. “I’ll see you when you’re home.”

Bakura just nodded and grabbed his jacket, leaving without another word. He didn’t thank him unnecessarily. Ryou was a good protector. And made good coffee. And food. And fucked Bakura until he saw stars more than once. That was a fair ground for thanking him.

It was fine.

* * *

That day was one of Bakura’s longest at the security company he worked for. Every time a door opened, a set of footsteps came too close to his cubicle, a voice got too loud - every time something surprised him even a touch, Bakura flinched, but it was never Hoshiko.

By lunchtime, his body ached like he’d done three straight days of work.

His manager noticed, and shortly after his half hour break, she leaned over the small wall separating Bakura’s desk from several other identicals. “Go home,” she said. “You look like you’re about to vomit and I don’t need you infecting anyone.”

Bakura’s eyes flickered. “Are you sure?”

“You’re going at half the pace you normally do.” His manager shook her head. “Go home, sleep whatever this is off, and come in when you’re healthy. Got it?”

Bakura nodded and packed up his briefcase before trudging home. His body ached. He just needed to sleep. He let out a heavy breath as he unlocked the door-

And his briefcase landed on tile.

Ryou looked up from where he sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor. His mouth was covered with blood, and he was licking more off his fingers. It dripped from his chin to stain his shirt. “You’re home early,” was all he said.

“I-” Bakura stared at him. “What- what’s happened?”

“Oh.” Ryou smiled and snapped his fingers. The blood was gone. “Your ex came to visit and thought I was your new ‘slut’, as she deemed it. She tried to shoot me with one of those cute guns you humans have, so I tore her fucking throat out.”

Bakura kicked the door closed. “So… she’s gone?” His voice cracked.

Ryou’s wings flapped and pulled him up to his feet. “Yup.” He smiled, popping the ‘p’. “You’re safe.”

Bakura’s arms flung around Ryou’s neck and their lips crashed together. Ryou groaned and dragged his fingers through Bakura’s hair. “Is this another thank you?” He asked between kisses.

Bakura snorted and bit Ryou’s lip. “It’s whatever you fucking want it to be.”

Ryou grinned and dipped to nip Bakura’s neck. Bakura’s breath hitched and his head tilted back. He stumbled into a wall and Ryou held him there.

Ryou sucked on Bakura’s neck until fresh purple blossomed over the marks Hoshiko had left. “You know this means it's your turn to fulfil the bargain.”

“Mm…” Bakura closed his eyes. “What do you want?”

Ryou licked his lips. They were redder than usual. “You.” He snapped his fingers and their clothes disappeared.

Bakura snorted as Ryou hoisted him up, back pressed into the wall. “That’s fucking cheesy. What, I’ve convinced you to stay in the human world with me instead of going back to Gehena?” His legs wrapped around Ryou’s waist.

“You’re such a nerd.” Ryou grabbed his own cock.

Bakura stared. Ryou’s fingers didn’t quite meet wrapped around it. “Fuck, you’re hung like a fucking horse.”

Ryou smirked. “The perks of not being human.” Ryou thrust into Bakura without any more warning. He must have used his magic again, because there was little discomfort.

Little. Bakura still hissed as Ryou’s cock filled him. “Oh, fuck!” His nails dug into Ryou’s shoulders.

“Mm.” Ryou bit his neck again and set up a rough rhythm of slamming into Bakura, shifting occasionally. “No, I’m too selfish for that.” He licked a stripe up Bakura’s jugular and sucked his earlobe between his teeth. “I’m bringing you with me instead.”

Bakura moaned and his head fell back into the wall. “Ow, fuck. Oh, fuck!” He shouted as Ryou slammed into his prostate seconds later. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Ryou snorted and adjusted his grip, speeding up. “Think you’re up for that?” His voice was rougher.

Bakura forced his eyes open. Oh yes. Those eyes were as black as the night on a new moon, lips still red with bloodied lipstick.

“Not that it matters.” Ryou’s thrusts were growing more erratic. “You promised me anything. But your disappearance could alert exorcists.” He gripped Bakura’s hair and tugged. Bakura shouted his approval to the heavens that Ryou had scorned. “Maybe I _should _stay. You could be my little slave up here instead… I wouldn’t have to share you with anyone. You’d be all mine whenever the fuck I wanted.”

Bakura’s nails dug into his shoulders harder. “Damn it,” he snapped. “Make up your fucking mind already!”

Ryou dragged Bakura’s face closer to him and bit his lip hard enough to puncture skin. Bakura clenched around him, eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck!”

“Are you close?” Ryou hummed. He swiped his tongue over Bakura’s lip and reached one hand between them to wrap around Bakura’s weeping erection. “I bet you’ve never been fucked like this before.”

“No shit!” Bakura hitched his hips up. “You’re- ah, fuck! You’re not human!”

Ryou grinned and began stroking Bakura’s cock. “I bet you’re already _dying _to cum.”

Bakura whined and hitched his hips again, rolling down into Ryou’s thrusts.

“Beg. Beg me and maybe I’ll be merciful.”

“Fuck!” Bakura clenched his teeth. “Fuck, Ryou, please! Oh, fuck, I’m- ah! I’m so close! Please!”

Ryou pressed Bakura into the wall with his shoulder, thrusts speeding up. He shoved his tongue down Bakura’s throat, swallowing Bakura’s moan as he came over Ryou’s hand.

Bakura tightened around Ryou as the demon only thrust harder. His body ached with overstimulation and he sagged into Ryou’s shoulder, face in his neck. He peppered Ryou’s neck and jaw with kisses and nips until Ryou tensed and came inside him with a long moan.

They stayed for a moment, neither wanting to move. Then Bakura shifted. “My back’s itchy.”

“Sorry.” Ryou eased him down, and Bakura wobbled on shaky legs as Ryou slipped out of him. Ryou caught him around his waist and snapped his fingers.

Any discomfort was gone, along with the shakiness of his limbs, but Bakura didn’t stop leaning on Ryou as they made their way to the bed. He dragged Ryou under the covers and Ryou nuzzled into Bakura’s chest.

“Mm, this _is_ nice,” he sighed. His wings shifted a touch.

Bakura brought up a cautious hand and stroked one - the one on the outside. Ryou shuddered and relaxed. “So,” Bakura murmured, “have you made up your mind?”

Ryou peered up at him.

“About what you want. Do you want to drag me down to hell or stay with me?”

Ryou hummed, head tilting back. “Kek’s been a bit of a bitch lately with the whole Catholic revival thing going on,” he admitted. “It wouldn’t do any harm to stay up here until he calms down. Shouldn’t take more than a few decades.”

“So that’s the deal?” Bakura’s eyebrows arched. “Hoshiko’s life for staying with me until your boss gets over his pissy fit?”

“Well, yes.” Ryou leaned up to kiss Bakura. “But that’s only one deal. I’m sure between us we could come up with more before that happens.”

Bakura Mubarak was an incredibly unfortunate man. Only the most unfortunate of men could make a deal with a demon and not even get to see hell at the end of it. But then again, hell was probably nothing in comparison to Ryou’s lips on his as he eased into Bakura for a second round.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it. Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. Happy Halloween!


End file.
